


Shot through the heart

by DisasterSoundtrack



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-17
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-17 19:22:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2320574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisasterSoundtrack/pseuds/DisasterSoundtrack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has to make sure they both remember tonight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shot through the heart

Fast, fast, faster. You might not endure any longer, so you pull him, pull him close, listen to him moan and then push him on the panoramic window. Careful, you might as well break it, but it’s the worst time to be careful ever.  
  
You were never careful with him except that one time, your first time together, which you can recall second to second, every scent and every move, every flash of light and every squeak of skin.  
  
There are memories you collect, put between pages of a book and keep forever.  
  
There are memories you don’t tell anyone about.  
  
Memories meant for dark, lonely nights, hazy ones, steamy ones, just for you and your hand.  
  
You are making one of those memories now.  
  
He knows you won’t be gentle, he knows you won’t and he likes it, loves it, adores it. You can leave the gentleness for later, you can also leave the big stupid words for later, or just let them take their own time.  
  
"Oh fuck, Cas", you whisper into his sweat-prickled neck and it’s fine for now, more than fine, it’s perfect.  
  
You’ve had the wildest dreams before. Well, your life kind of _is_ one great, freaky dream, but those have been the other kind of wild.  
  
You’ve had dreams of a crumpled trenchcoat on the floor, tangled with your plaid shirt. You’ve heard voices, rumbling of thunder and how sunshine sounds like. You wished for the day to come and dreaded the day. You took cold showers at 5 AM and shook your head like the end of the world.  
  
You imagined him touching you a million times or more. Not a friendly pat on the back, not a careful doctoring of a wound, not even a casual hug, but an erotic kind of touch. An angel running his soft hands up and down your inner thighs. Biting your lips. Squeezing your cock with curiosity. Mangling your mind.  
  
That one time you took his deep "hello" and swallowed it.  
  
You have failed many times and you will fail many more. He doesn’t seem concerned. Maybe it’s your fault, the kind of human being he’s becoming, ruthless, uncompromising, with sarcasm the only type of humor he understands. You know you’ve ruined him.  
  
But now it’s the panoramic window and Cas’s naked back pressed to it. It’s your numbing hands unzipping his pants desperately.  
  
It’s yet another stolen moment in a hotel room which is not necessarily low-profile enough.  
  
When you come back, Sam will have this strange face on again, like he’s not sure whether to frown or laugh.  
  
When you come back. But now it’s a few more hours with nobody disturbing you. Now Cas leans into you, closer, closer than possible, legs climbing up your hips, fingers digging into your lower back and diving under the waistband of your jeans, driving you insane.  
  
"Dean, oh God, Dean, come on, come on _now_ ", and you really think you can’t take it any longer, with his hand stroking your front through the fabric, and you’ll go crazy, you’ll go crazy any minute.  
  
Castiel moves his head, his cheek brushes yours and it’s this moment of intense clarity, when you look into his bright eyes, like burning fire, like ice, like everything that’s good about life, and then you both rock forward to kiss. You kiss and you make it good, you make it unforgettable like every other kiss you’ve had.  
  
You love Cas’s hair when it’s a mess, a mess like the life you live. You move your hands up and down his brown locks and moan straight into his mouth.  
  
Then you lift him up and carry to bed, white and pristine. It won’t last long, like it’s perfection is meant to be destroyed by you.  
  
High time to take off your pants and everything else, but your lover is very impatient, sits there all vulnerable, all yours, all "Take me, Dean Winchester, take me first, ask questions later, or don’t ask questions at all". The morning will come and it’s inevitable, but not now, not now, not now.  
  
You lock lips again, tongues working, and lie flush for a while, and then Cas draws his legs up and around your hips so that you can enter, gripping the headboard with one hand and your marked shoulder with the other.  
  
So you enter, one swift movement, feeling him melt and rock and push.  
  
And it’s glorious, it feels glorious and like each and every time you don’t want it to be over. You have to make sure you both remember tonight.  
  
"Open your eyes, Cas", and he does, and what if you both died right now, what if you never leave this two seconds beyond human understanding.  
  
Suddenly you are everywhere and nowhere at all, and Cas is the only point of reference because the entire world has vanished.  
  
You make him come with just a few rough hand movements, watch him twist and turn and his face is so beautiful you are there only seconds later.  
  
This is when you collapse next to him, all drained and wet and wasted away, both of you breathing loudly in unison and not saying a word, until Cas breaks the magical silence.  
  
"That was… something, really, Dean."  
  
"Yeah, I know." You catch his stare and flash him a smile, careful, it’s a moment when big words like to slip out.  
  
Castiel reaches out for your hand and holds it, examining your face with a slight frown.  
  
"You okay?", you ask, warm pleasure never leaving your body.  
  
"Yes. Yes, I’m okay", but he draws you even closer, so that you lie face to his chest and inhale nothing but him.  
  
There might be no morning for you, sure. There might be no time for you and you might be forever bound to "faster, faster".  
  
There might also be just now, just panoramic windows and just a few more quiet hours of nobody but you and Cas.


End file.
